


so...how's parenting going? vol. iii: the case of the four-year-old baby

by thealmightyavocado



Series: so...how's parenting going? [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, please laugh with me friends :'), so much nonsense it's like?? unbelievable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealmightyavocado/pseuds/thealmightyavocado
Summary: “So, honey...um…Papa and I wanted to talk to you because uh well—our family is going to be getting a little bigger soon because uh…”“We’re having another baby.” Louis finishes, just ripping the band aid off. Who knows how long Harry would have dragged that sentence out for.Rory instantly pauses, settling his legs as he sits up slowly. “No. I’m your baby.”“Yes, you are our baby, but we are getting another one too.” Harry explains gently.“No, you can not. Just me…I’m baby. I’m the only baby.”“You’re our first baby.” Louis tries next, rubbing Rory’s back supportively.“No.” Rory argues, his signature deep frown appearing on his forehead.“Yes—”“No.” He repeats seriously, looking them dead in the eye. “No.”or while preparing for the arrival of their second child, nearly four-year-old Rory expresses his sincere disproval of getting a new addition to their family.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: so...how's parenting going? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510697
Comments: 51
Kudos: 357





	so...how's parenting going? vol. iii: the case of the four-year-old baby

**Author's Note:**

> hi loves!
> 
> first, thank you to all of you who have read this series and somehow want to keep reading it, I'm totally amazed. thanks for all the support and lovely comments and messages, you really make me want to keep writing about our dear Rory's adventures in life lol 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one, its actually the longest of the series so far, so that's exciting haha
> 
> thank you, thank you! :))
> 
> love lex .x

“Louiiiis! It’s time! Louis!”

His husband is a mess of wind tousled hair, cheeks ruddy from the winter chill he just escaped as he bursts through Louis’ home office door. Harry is still dressed in scrubs, having just come straight from his shift at the hospital. He looks as though he ran through their entire house, slightly out of breath as he barrels into the room.

“Oh well hello to you too, love.” Louis smiles up from his desk, eyeline peeking up just over the rim of his glasses. “How was work today?” 

“Good. Fine—I mean—in a sec—hi.” Harry trips over his own words as well as his own two feet as he clamors across the room and behind the desk to urgently crowd Louis’ space. He cups both of Louis’ cheeks in his cool palms and smiles into his greeting kiss. “It’s time.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows together in confusion. “Harry, babe I love you, but I honestly don’t know what you’re on about.”

“I know, I’m sorry—I’ll start over. Promise. But first I really gotta wee—but know that it’s time, Louis! It’s tiiime!” Harry shouts as he dashes out of the room just as quickly as he came into it.

“…Um? Ok?” Louis blinks after him before shaking his head fondly and going back to work on his computer.

Harry appears again only minutes later and somehow he’s already changed out of his scrubs into a cozy pair of joggers. He leans his shoulder comfortably against the frame of the door, smiling even wider at Louis than before he left.

“Are you ready to use your words like a big boy?” Louis asks as though speaking to their three-year-old. 

“Ha ha.” Harry deadpans, slinking slowly into the office and dropping himself comfortably into his husband’s lap. He loops his arms around Louis’ neck, grinning at him like he has a secret.

Louis searches his eyes curiously, resting his hands on Harry’s hip. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry’s smile only grows as his fingertips run along the back of Louis’ neck. “It’s time for us to have another baby.” 

“Ooh? Is that right?” Louis leans back in his desk chair, considering Harry with a sly, amused smirk. “And what brought this on, love?”

“So I was a float nurse today and I ended up in the postpartum unit of labor and delivery. Eight mums gave birth last night and the unit was so short staffed—it was such a mess. I was kinda mad about it at first but then! The _babies_.” Harry gushes, entire face lighting up with pure glee. “Oh my god Lou, the _babies_! It’s like I had completely forgotten how small and precious newborns are.”

“I don’t think you ever really forgot, darling.”

“ _Louuuiiis_! They’re so beautiful and sweet and soft and pure! I swear to god I just wanted to forget about charting and assessing my patients and spend my whole day just holding the newborns. I gave a ton of first baths and then I picked out cute little hats for them to wear. Sooo fucking cute, oh my god—and I was so tempted to snap pictures of all of these kids that weren’t mine—a total violation of privacy rights by the way—but then I realized….we _need_ a baby. It’s time.”

“It’s time?”

“Yes, Lou! It’s time!” Harry nods eagerly, still gently tracing along the slides of his husband’s neck. “Rory is like...not a baby anymore. He’s well on his way to becoming an adult man, you know what I mean?”

“Adult man? Really Harry?” Louis starts to laugh, eyes crinkled fondly. “I guess our work is done then. The time really flew didn’t it, one minute your son is three and the next he’s an adult man. Amazing how that works.”

Harry laughs along with him. “Ok, maybe not an adult man, but he’s definitely not a baby and I want a _baby!”_

Louis considers him closely. “Got baby fever, do you?”

“Louis, you should have seen them! Perfect baby skin and tiny fingernails and chubby little legs.” Harry rambles on dreamily. “And we’re ready, you know. I mean—I think we are. Right? We are. We’re great parents—most days at least. No, but really we’re the best team and logistically we’re in a really good place. We’re financially stable, we’ve saved up more than enough—and we don’t want our kids to be too far apart in age. Rory is already turning four and—”

Harry would probably go on and on rambling and gushing excitedly about infants and why they’re ready for this until Louis finally interrupts him. “Yes.”

Harry blinks, searching Louis’ eyes. “Yes what?” 

“Yes, let’s have another baby.” Louis’ smile grows along with his husband’s.

“Really? Just like that?” Harry’s entire face somehow illuminates even brighter than before and it’s absolutely inspiring to see. More than anything Louis loves to make his spouse happy, and he’d do just about anything to keep that look on Harry’s face. Louis doesn’t even get the chance to answer Harry because of how tightly Harry is holding his face between his fingers, kissing him hard. “God, I love you so much.”

“Mmm and I love you, father of my babies.”

“Babies. Plural. That’s so fucking sexy.” Harry groans, grinding down on Louis’ lap as their kiss rapidly becomes more heated. He trails his hands down Louis’ chest to his waistband, palming at the growing tightness of his jeans. “Is Rory down for a nap because I’m feeling very much in love with you and I really want to fuc—”

“Papaaa!” A high-pitched shout comes echoing from somewhere outside of the office. And from the sound of it, the little boy attached seems to be running.

“Definitely not napping.” Louis whispers regretfully, sliding his hand up from Harry’s ass.

Harry sits all the way up and sighs longingly in disappointment. “Later then.”

Louis nods slowly before kissing Harry one more time. “Later.”

“Papa, I need help, I—oh. Daddy you’re home?” Rory appears in the doorway holding a hairbrush in one hand and a purple marker in the other. He’s got a pink scrunchie on top of his head lopsidedly holding back the front of his hair and he looks exactly like a miniature, dirty blonde version of Harry.

“Hi Ro!” Harry twists around on Louis’ lap and waves happily at his son.

Rory frowns, narrowing his eyes. “Why did you not come say hi to me when you got home? Why did I gotta come find you?”

“Sorry baby, I had to talk to Papa.”

“Hmm.” Rory looks unamused by that. “So you don’t love me?”

“What? Who said that?” Harry turns back around to Louis in question. “Did you hear me say that?”

“Love me means you say hi.” Rory pouts his bottom lip.

Harry jumps up and charges across the room, swooping Rory up into his arms in a surprise attack. “Hiiii Rory! Hi! Hi! Hi my little monster!” He assaults his son’s cheeks with raspberries and kisses until Rory can’t help but abandon his pout and giggle. “You have my full attention and love and everything I have to offer!”

Rory beams, holding Harry’s face in his small hands. “Hi Daddy, I’m happy to see you!”

“I’m even happier to see you, sweet boy. Missed you.” Harry presses a long kiss to his soft cheek. “I like your hair. Is that mine?”

“Mhmm.” Rory nods, reaching up to his own head pull at the scrunchie. “I did it myself.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s cuter on you anyway.” Harry grins, pecking Rory’s left dimple this time.

“You’re absolutely right about that.” Louis agrees. When he and Harry first started dating, Louis was obsessed with everything about Harry’s hair. It’s still easily one of his absolute favorite things about his husband. And he’ll admit that he definitely cried when the most beautiful golden ringlets started sprouting from Rory’s head at the age of 8 months. Now Louis refuses to let anyone cut his son’s hair. Harry would call him fanatical, but Louis isn’t ashamed of his passionate love of curls. And now that he has two curly boys at his disposal to love on whenever he pleases, Louis couldn’t possibly be happier.

“Did you need help with something, honey?” Harry wonders, shifting Rory around in his arms.

“Yes, but I wanted Papa to help me.”

“I can help you.” Harry offers easily. “What is it?”

Rory shakes his head. “No, I need Papa.”

“Ro sweetheart, why don’t you let Daddy help you.” Louis suggests.

“Cuz I need _you_!” Rory insist as though his life depends on it.

“Why _me_?” Louis mimics Rory’s desperate tone with a smile.

“Because, Papa! Be- _cause_!”

“But Ro, I’m right here.” Harry reminds, bouncing Rory up and down on his hip.

Rory looks to Louis then back to Harry in careful consideration before sighing. “Fine. Meet me in my room in two minutes. Don’t be late.”

“Two minutes. You got it, bud.” Harry places him back down on his feet.

Rory stops at the door and looks over his shoulder again. “Don’t be late.”

Harry sighs to himself after Rory has officially left. “Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that Rory was once a sweet little newborn baby who would never backtalk and sass me.”

“Those were the days, huh?” Louis laughs. “Still want another one, love?”

Harry laughs too. “I think so? Ask me again after I help Rory do something that’s probably ridiculous.”

Louis grins, fully knowing that if it involves Rory it’s absolutely ridiculous.

“Daaaaddy!” Rory calls urgently from down the hall. “You’re late! I need you _now_!”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming!”

🍼

There’s a sign on Rory’s door. Not so much a sign, but a collage of incomprehensible doodles in a rainbow of various crayon colors. Harry tilts his head at it for a while trying to make sense of it with no luck before shrugging and knocking on his son’s door.

Rory opens it and looks up at him and then place his hand on his hip. “Can I help you?”

“Um…” Harry clears his throat, not expecting to be greeted like this. “You asked me to come to your room remember?”

“You’re late.” Rory sasses dryly.

“I’m sorry. It was a long walk, there was traffic in the hallway.”

“Come in and sit. You gotta wait now. There are people in front of you.”

Harry blinks in confusion looking around the room “Wait for…?”

“Your a-point-a-ment!” Rory sounds out incorrectly, but Harry gets the point.

“My appointment for what?”

This…” Rory gestures around his room slowly. “Is a hair place now. My hair place.”

Harry takes a look around the room and notices a wide collection of stolen hair products. Mainly _his_ stolen hair products, consisting of hair clips, scrunchies, combs, brushes and just about all of the products that should be on his bathroom sink. “A salon? You’ve started a hair salon, Rory?”

“Yes.” Rory confirms, little hands poised once again on his hips as if he doesn’t have time for Harry’s shit. “And I’m very busy. Very.”

“Oooh ok.” Harry nods with a fond, amused smile growing on his face. “I’ll wait for my appointment then.”

“Please sit, Daddy.”

“Rory, may I ask you a question?” Harry rests both his elbows on his knees and props his head up. “Or are you too busy?”

Rory pauses seeming to think it over. “Ok, you can ask.”

“Where did you get the idea to start a hair salon today?”

“Well Daddy. I just woke up from my nap and said I want to. So I did.” Rory answers simply as he positions a large teddy bear on a stool.

“You’re amazing, Ro.” Harry awes. And if that isn’t an example of determination and work ethic, Harry doesn’t know what is.

Rory messes around with hair clips and puts bows on all sorts of bears while Harry just watches him in utter fascination. He’s so entertained that he’s not even all that bothered that he’s being made to wait in line behind stuffed bears and toys.

Louis pokes his head curiously in Rory’s room after twenty minutes. “What’s going on in here?”

“I’m doing hair!” Rory announces proudly. “You want a makeover, Papa?”

“Oh my, I’d love one, darling. Thank you. But only if you can squeeze me into your schedule.” 

“I’m free right now!” Rory enthuses, grabbing Louis’ hand to walk him into his room.

“Hello?” Harry pipes up, frowning from his spot on Rory’s bed. “What about me?”

“Can you be patient, sir?” Rory sasses over his shoulder.

Harry’s jaw drops in offense, hand to his chest. “Can I be patient? Rory, I’ve been sitting here waiting for thirty minutes.”

Rory shrugs as though that is not at all his problem. “Well…you gotta keep waiting.”

“Does he even have an appointment?” Harry questions, frowning at his husband.

“Yes.” Rory answers. “He does now.”

“How does he have one and I don’t?”

“Cuz he’s my Papa and you’re not.”

“Right.” Harry narrows his eyes at Louis and nods bitterly. “Of course.”

Louis shrugs at him knowingly, sitting down on the tiny designated hair stool so that he’s at eye level with Rory.

“Ok, so if this isn’t happening right now, I’m just gonna go grab a snack real quick.” Harry starts to stand up, but is halted by the small hand placed on his knee.

“Um Daddy.” Rory turns all the way around to look him dead in the eye. “If you leave my store, you won’t have a spot no more. I told you I’m very busy. Very very.”

Harry knows he doesn’t have to sit and take this from a three-year-old and yet somehow he stays put. Maybe his son has him whipped. “Ok then.”

“So I’m thinking…” Rory walks around Louis pensively, squinting his eyes. “You need a new look!”

“Ooh?” Louis sits up. “What kind of look, Ro?”

“A new one! A pretty one! I think you’re pretty already, but you could be more prettier!”

“I’d love to see Papa more prettier.” Harry grins, getting comfortable on Rory’s small bed.

“Well what do you think would be good for me?” Louis asks Rory. “I want to look just like you.”

“Mm let me see what I can do.”

Rory starts brushing Louis’ fringe back with a comb. He has fun running his little fingers through Louis’ hair, making it go all different directions on top of his head. Louis gives him total freedom to do whatever he wants, trusting the three-year-old even when Rory puts a handful of shampoo in his hair and follows it up with an equal amount of hair gel. But he assures Louis that it’s all a part of the look and Louis would never restrict his creative endeavors.

“All done!” Rory hands Louis a mirror after he’s put the last finishing touch on Louis’ head.

“Ooh _wow_.” Louis smiles, clearly trying not to crack up laughing at his appearance. He’s got at least five lopsided ponytails scattered on his head, a yellow headband pushing the lose gel-soaked strands back, and a single hair clip poised right in the center directly above his forehead. “This is definitely _quite_ a look for me.”

“Aww Lou, you’re more prettier now!” Harry teases, admiring his husband’s new hairdo.

“I really am, aren’t I?” Louis grins. “I love it, Rory. Thank you, love.”

Rory smiles widely, clearly proud of himself and that makes it all worth it. “You’re welcome!”

“Is it my turn now?” Harry sits up on the bed.

“Hmm. I don’t think I can help you.” Rory decides.

“What?” Harry mopes.

Rory just shakes his head as if that is meant to say enough.

“Rory, are you serious?”

Rory looks down at his wrist even though he is lacking a watch. “Well I’m closed now. So…”

“But—”

“Sorry Daddy.” Rory shrugs before walking right out of the room, unbothered.

Louis turns slowly towards Harry, headband sliding off his head along with a glob of shampoo. “So H, about us getting a second kid…”

Harry holds Louis’ gaze for a moment before they both break, laughing uncontrollably.

🍼

It all moves pretty quick. Once they both commit to the idea of expanding their family, they don’t waste any time, determined to make the idea a reality. They always planned on having more kids so ever since they got married, a monthly percent of their mutual earnings goes into a special savings account dedicated to the process of surrogacy. This time around the process is so much smoother because they have a better idea of what to expect and they already have a surrogate mother lined up from when Rory was born.

It’s the day after Rory’s 4th birthday that Harry and Louis learn that they are officially pregnant with a baby girl. They both cry happy tears about it, but they don’t officially celebrate until they have the house all to themselves for their anniversary a week later. Rory is spending the weekend with his grandmother and Harry and Louis are taking advantage of the opportunity to catch up on spending some quality time together.

“ _Louis_.” Harry gasps his name weakly, overwhelmed as he collapses on top of his husband, limbs limp and utterly spent.

“Fuck…baby that was…” Louis trails off in a daze as he tries to catch his breath, sweaty chest rising and falling heavily.

“Mmm…” Harry contently hums in agreement, head buried against Louis’ neck. “I missed screaming your name as loud as I want. And I missed hearing you scream back. Fuck, I just _missed_ screaming.”

“Oh, so you mean you’re not into the idea of our son barging in here and demanding to know why you’re screaming and what you’re doing and why you have no clothes on?” Louis jokes rhetorically.

“It’s official.” Harry rolls over onto his back. “Quiet sex is completely overrated, and I don’t think I can ever go back to that now that I’ve been set free again. I also missed walking around my house naked whenever I want.”

“Such is the life of a parent.” Louis sighs. “We traded our sexual freedom for strollers and baby food and mysterious stains that appear everywhere.”

“Love it when you talk dirty.” Harry grins, glancing over at Louis beside him.

“Diapers.” Louis whispers against Harry’s ear as though it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever said.

Harry bites down on his lower lip as he rolls his eyes towards the back of his head in mock ecstasy. “Mm baby the things you do to me.”

“…Pacifiers.” Louis blows against his neck in a sultry voice.

 _“God_.” Harry moans dramatically, arching his back off of the bed. “I’m so close.”

Louis fondly giggles. “I think we need more champagne.”

Harry grins happily. “Oh, always more. Yes please.”

Louis reaches over to the nightstand where they left their champagne flutes when they first started getting handsy with each other. He tops off each glass before handing one to Harry.

“Happy anniversary baby, marrying you continues to be the best thing I’ve ever done.” Louis toasts, joining their free hands together.

“Aww I love you, Lou. So, so much.” Harry promises, lifting their linked hands to his lips. “You make everything about my life infinitely better. Happy anniversary.”

They clink their glasses together—probably for the tenth time tonight alone. Harry and Louis have made several sappy, sentimental toasts to each other throughout the evening, some of them overemotional while others adoring and sweet. But who can really blame when it’s their wedding anniversary and they are soon to be welcoming a brand new baby into their lives.

“So, I’ve decided on a name.” Harry announces.

“Oh god…here we go. Do I even want to hear it?”

“Of course you want to hear it. Because you love me and you love all my wonderful ideas.” Harry beams as he downs the rest of his champagne. “Also, you lost the bet so you have no choice.”

When Harry and Louis got married, a bet was placed. A very stupid, very alcohol fueled bet that Louis has come to regret many a time. They were on their honeymoon, day three of their honeymoon to be more specific. Despite being at a beautiful, tropical resort the two of them had hardly set foot outside of their hotel room since they first checked in. Maybe it was the sea breeze wafting into their room, maybe it was the permanent sex haze Louis’ mind was in, maybe it was indeed all the wine they drank or maybe it was a little of all of those things, but for some reason Louis thought it was a good idea to make a bet with his new husband.

The bet centered around food, as all good bets do. It was two a.m. and Louis was absolutely starving, but all he was craving was a full English breakfast, not something that would be a staple at a resort in the middle of the Caribbean. So on a whim, Louis bet Harry that he couldn’t find him a full English breakfast within an hour. If Harry were to win said bet he would get the incredible honor of naming their future kids. How Louis decided on that as the prize, he couldn’t possibly tell you.

But. Somehow, God only knows how, Harry ended up winning.

In the middle of the night, completely drunk, Harry somehow scoured that entire island and procured an entire freshly made spread just for Louis. In one fucking hour, down to the minute. To this day, Harry claims he was able to do it purely because of how much he loved Louis and just wanted to make him happy. And that’s definitely sweet and all, but basically Louis traded the names of his children for a fry-up.

And unfortunately, Harry was not drunk enough to forget what exactly he won and now he has the right to decide on the name of each of their children. Which explains how the name Forrest was ever even an option.

Louis blows out a heavy breath. “I think I’m tipsy enough and fucked out enough to hear it.”

“Drumroll please.” Harry taps his fingers on Louis’ bare abdomen

“I will not encourage you, demon.”

“You’re no fun.” Harry pouts, dropping his chin down to his husband’s chest. “You’re a sore loser.”

“Just give me the name Harry so I can start to wrap my head around it.”

“Winter.”

“…is a time of year.” Louis blinks expectantly, waiting for Harry to elaborate.

“No, that’s the name. Winter…”

“Harry? _Harry_.” Louis sits all the way up in bed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Harry, baby—love of my life. You can _not_ be serious. Tell me you’re not serious, love please. Please, Harry no…”

Harry smiles wide, biting his bottom lip as he happily wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m serious.”

Louis throws his head back against the pillows, tossing his arm over his face. “No, Harry! No, no, no—god Harry! NO! You are not doing this to my unborn child!”

Harry grins widely, already laughing. He totally enjoys this; Louis knows he does. He was sent on this earth to destroy Louis in more ways than one. “Sorry you lost the bet, Lou. Must suck for you to not be in control.”

 _“I_ lost the bet, not our daughter! Don’t do this to her!” Louis begs, both hands on Harry’s chest. “Listen, we already have a son named Forrest. Now you want us to have a daughter named Winter. Do you hear how that sounds? Do you fucking _hear_ it?”

“Hear what?” Harry asks seriously. “What’s wrong with it?”

Louis gives him an incredulous look. “What are we, an American celebrity couple? Are you mad that the names Apple and North were already taken?”

“I really like the name! It’s cute! We can call her Winnie for short.”

“Winnie.” Louis tests and he hates that he doesn’t actually completely hate it. 

“You like it, I can see you liking it.” Harry smirks, leaning in to kiss him.

“No, I do not.” Louis defends.

“Winnie and Rory.” Harry coos against Louis’ lips. “It’s sooo cuuute. You know it’s cute, Lou.”

“Winter and Forrest is pretentious as hell though.”

“No, it’s not, we have a theme. I like it.”

“What theme? A whimsical winter night in a forest?” Louis presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Ugh _shit_ —can I just, like, meditate on it?”

“You don’t meditate.”

“Maybe I should start?” Louis grabs the whole bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and just starts chugging it. “Just give me time to process it, ok? I need to find peace.”

“Remember when you hated the idea of naming our son Forrest, but look at how well it suits him and you love it now.”

Louis pulls back from the bottle blearily. “And look how long that took.”

“Ok, just think about it, babe.” Harry takes the bottle from his grasp and sets it back down before kissing him nice and slow. “For me.”

“I guess this is what I get for marrying an Aquarius.” Louis sighs heavily as he sinks back against the pillows. “You just exude chaotic energy for no good reason.”

The bright, fond grin on Harry’s face is practically blinding. “And you love it.”

Louis just rolls his eyes and Harry drops down to nuzzle his head atop Louis’ bare chest. Louis grazes his fingers through Harry’s hair mindlessly.

“So have you thought about it?”

“Harry, it’s literally been two fucking seconds.”

“No, not that, sorry.” Harry lifts his head up. “I meant how to tell Rory we’re pregnant.”

“You do realize that your expression implies that one of us is physically pregnant and that’s definitely misleading to the four-year-old mind.”

“Right, well I think we should just explain that he’s going to be a big brother and focus only on that.”

“You know it’s not going to be that simple. This is our son we’re talking about.” Louis reminds pointedly.

“You don’t think he’s going to take it well?”

“No, not at all.”

Harry pauses for a second, thinking. “But…he likes babies.”

“But he also likes having all the attention all the time.” Louis counters.

“And whose fault is that?”

Louis raises a single eyebrow. “Are you trying to suggest that it’s mine?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I am flat out saying it.” Harry smiles knowingly.

Louis gasps in offense. “I love my kid, ok.”

“And so do I, but you must admit that you’ve created a monster.”

“No, I haven’t, I’ve just tapped into some of his core Styles traits. Where do you think he got attention seeking behavior from?”

“Are you, my husband, calling me attention seeking now? On my anniversary? In my own fucking house? I won’t stand for this.”

“No, I’m calling you well-loved and adored by me. Just like Rory is.”

“I can’t wait for Winnie to be mine.” Harry sighs longingly. “Finally, some equality in this house.”

“For the last time, her name is not Winnie!” Louis bursts, shaking his head.

“Yes, it is and she’s _mine_. I can already feel her calling to me.”

“I’m not fucking signing a birth certificate that says Winter on it.” Louis threatens, glaring at Harry.

“Yeah, you are, bitch.” Harry nods confidently, linking his fingers with Louis’ and drawing their hands to his lips. “Honor the bet, Lou.”

“Why must you terrorize me.” Louis exhales heavily. “Can’t wait for our future daughters, Spring, Summer, and Autumn to be born. Oh, and I can’t forget about our sons, Tree, Flower, and Pinecone. Then we’ll have a whole set.”

Harry lifts himself up suddenly, hovering right over Louis. “I wonder if she’ll have your eyes.” He drops a sweet kiss right above Loui’s brow. “Or your cheekbones...” He leaves another kiss on the defined curve Louis’ cheek. “Or your cute little nose.” He kisses that next, doing it twice for good measure.

Louis softens, reaching up to cup his husband’s face. “And what if she doesn’t have any of those things?”

“I’ll adore her with my whole heart, of course. That’s my girl.” Harry promises. “But I have a feeling she’s gonna have all of those things and more.”

“What’s the and more?”

“All the things I love about you.” Harry stares down intently into his eyes. “Like how sweet you are, you’ve got the biggest heart. And you’re so headstrong and brave, you never back down from challenges and god—you’re so fucking funny. You’re the best there is, babe and I think our daughter only has good things to choose from.” 

“I really love you.” Louis whispers, eyes crinkling appreciatively as he smiles. But then he is rolling them both over, spreading his arms out over Harry’s. “And if it’s quite alright with you love, I’d like to make you scream a few more times tonight.”

“Yeah?” Harry grins up at him knowingly. “Well, I’m all yours.”

🍼

“Ready?”

“Honestly? No.” Harry admits, back pressed flat against the wall.

Louis peeks around the corner at the living room where their son is sitting amongst an onslaught of crayons and markers, peacefully scribbling his little heart out on various sheets of construction paper.

“H, we really can’t put it off anymore, she’s already 32 weeks along.” Louis reminds as he faces Harry again.

Every day for weeks on end Harry and Louis have found some excuse to not tell Rory that they’ve got another baby on the way. One day it was because he scraped his knee playing outside, another because Harry insisted his throat felt scratchy and he was too sick for this conversation. Last week, Louis said it wasn’t a good idea because it was a full moon outside and who knows what might happen.

Yes, they know they’re being ridiculous. But they also know that their colorful, attention loving child is not going to love the idea of losing the spotlight. Are they the ones to blame? Yeah, probably. But there’s not much they can do about that now except face the music.

Harry lets out a pathetic whine, shaking his head. “Louis. _Louiiisss_ , I don’t wanna.”

“And you think that I do?”

“No, but….” Harry chances a glance at Rory again. “Ughhhh.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Louis tries to rationalize.

“He punches me in the eye.”

“Harry, what?” Louis squints his eyes at the ridiculousness of it. “He’s not violent. He’s _four.”_

“There’s a first time for everything, Louis. He may go through a violent stage; we have to prepare ourselves for that very possible reality.”

“You’re ridiculous. Like, actually ridiculous.”

“You say that now but…” Harry blows out a steady stream of air as he shakes his head with genuine worry. “Just wait.”

Louis can’t help but laugh at him, a full-fledged laugh. 

“Stop laughing at me!” Harry shoves him lightly. “It’s funny to you because you’re his favorite parent, but I get the most shit from him. If he ever decides he is the next Muhammad Ali, guess who is getting the first punch.”

“I’d never let him hit you, baby. That’s awful. I can’t believe you even said that out loud.” Louis eyes him curiously. “Do you think about this often?”

“More often than I’d like actually. But it’s a real fear of mine, if you must know.”

“Aww H. You’re afraid that your four-year-old child will rise up and hit you if given the chance. Wow...” Louis looks as though his mind is blown as he places a reassuring hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Thank you for confiding in me.”

“God, I hate you sometimes.” Harry scowls.

“Hmm…tell me more about the hate you feel inside.” Louis therapizes. “And would you say that at the age of four, you yourself had the urge to hit your parents? Like is this a genetic thing we should worry about? Should I maybe call Anne and get some advice about this violent phase we’re about to enter? Or?”

“I would um…describe my four-year-old self as uh…maybe _slightly_ passive aggressive? Um _perhaps_ —I became a _touch_ angry at times, yes. _But_ …my mother made sure I was active and kept occupied, so that I didn’t develop any um…destructive habits.”

“This is fascinating to me, H. Just mind-blowing stuff. Oh. My. God. Please continue.” Louis strokes his chin in wonderment. “You and Rory are like twin case studies to me. I totally should have gone into child psychology.”

Harry’s scowl deepens as he pouts his lips. “You’re mocking me now.”

“No, love! I’m listening to the events of your childhood and I’m enthralled by it. _Honestly_.”

“Fuck you, Louis.”

Louis smiles widely, holding back another laugh behind his lips. “You are literally my _favorite_ person, Harry. You’re just a wealth entertainment.”

“Ok, let’s fucking do this before I punch you.”

Louis gasps as though affronted. “Harry Edward Styles. That is not very nice. Do you need a timeout? Are you unable to regulate your emotions in a constructive way?”

Harry raises both of his hands slowly and flips Louis off. “How’s this for constructive?”

“It’s expressive, it’s nonviolent, I accept it.” Louis applauds cheekily.

Harry laughs, shaking his head fondly. “You’re the real menace, you know that?”

“Oh, I absolutely know that.” Louis grins easily, taking Harry’s hand in his. “Now come on my adorably angry boy, let’s get this over with.”

“After you.”

“Rory, darling.” Louis calls as he and Harry walk into the living room with linked hands.

“Hmm?” Rory hums, not looking up from his doodles. He’s lying flat on his tummy, socked feet kicked up behind him as he intently draws what looks to be some sort of horse. Or maybe it’s a monkey? Or a bear? Well, it’s safe to say that Rory is taking some creative liberties in his artwork.

“Daddy and I have something we have to tell you.”

That makes his little head perk up in interest. Rory jerks his body up so quickly that his curls cover over his face like a mop. “Ooh! Can I guess!”

“Um… sure you can guess if you want.” Harry nods. “Come sit over here with me and Papa.”

Rory climbs up onto the couch and squeezes himself in between his parents. “Is it my birthday!”

Louis ruffles Rory’s already fluffed hair. “You just had a birthday, silly boy.”

“Oh yeah...” Rory nods, looking off into the distance as if he’s remembering it. “When do I get another one?”

“Not for a whole year, babe.” Harry explains.

“Poop.” Rory pouts as he tugs mindlessly at one of his curls. “Ok well…can I get a puppy?”

“We’ve talked about this Rory, we aren’t getting a puppy right now.”

“How about _two_ puppies!” Rory widens his eyes.

“No.” Louis answers.

“Three!” In all his excitement over in the prospect of a puppy, Rory jumps up so that he’s standing on top of the couch cushion.

“No.”

“Four!” Rory jumps up, hands in the air.

“Rory, no puppies right now, ok.” Harry tells him. “And sit down please. You know better than to stand on the couch.”

“’m sorry.” Rory huffs as he uncoordinatedly drops himself onto the couch, pushing his hair out of his face with both hands.

“Are you done guessing?” Louis questions once his son has resettled. It’s not like Rory was ever really guessing anyway, more so just asking for random things as usual.

“Mmmmmm, I give up I think.” Rory decides slowly. “No wait! What about a fishy?”

“What?” Harry questions.

“Can I get a fishy!” He asks with even more enthusiasm. “I _need_ a fishy!”

“Um?” Louis pauses, glancing at Harry. “We’ll think about it ok, Ro?”

“Ok, but please think fast. I need a fishy.” Rory repeats seriously. “K, you can tell me your thing now.”

“Rory, first we want you to know that we love you very much, ok?” Louis starts, trying to ease the fit he already knows is coming. It’s practically inevitable.

“Ok.” Rory nods easily, swinging his feet back and forth. He can never seem to sit still for more than half a second at a time. “Me too. I love you.”

“So, honey...um…Papa and I wanted to talk to you because uh well—our family is going to be getting a little bigger soon because uh…”

“We’re having another baby.” Louis finishes, just ripping the band aid off. Who knows how long Harry would have dragged that sentence out for.

Rory instantly pauses, settling his legs as he sits up slowly. “No. I’m your baby.”

“Yes, you are our baby, but we are getting another one too.” Harry explains gently.

“No, you can not. Just me…I’m baby. I’m the _only_ baby.”

“You’re our first baby.” Louis tries next, rubbing Rory’s back supportively.

“No.” Rory argues, his signature deep frown appearing on his forehead.

“Yes—”

“No.” He repeats seriously, looking them dead in the eye. “No.”

“Rory—”

Rory sits back against the couch and lets out a tired sigh that sounds like it came from a grown man with a mortgage and 40-hour work week. He purses his lips together before look back up at his parents. “Where is this new baby now?”

“She’s growing—”

“Growing inside you?” Rory interrupts with wide eyes, pointing to Harry’s tummy. “Is the baby in there?”

“No, not—”

“Is it in you then?” Rory turns to Louis next.

Louis shakes his head. “No, honey.”

“Where is she so I can tell her we don’t need her here.” Rory questions, his brows are still furrowed as though he’s still processing. “And…and if you aren’t growing her…how do you know she belongs here?” 

“I didn’t grow you inside me, but you belong here.” Louis pulls Rory into his lap, wrapping both arms around him. He recognizes that it’s quite a hard thing for a child to conceptualize. It’s not like Rory knows where babies come from or how they are conceived, but it would be even more confusing to try and explain the process of surrogacy to him at this age.

“Yes, but I’m _me._ I’m your Rory.” Rory explains with his own logic. “We don’t know her, Papa.”

Harry pulls out his phone to show Rory a picture of the ultrasound from their last appointment with their surrogate. “Look honey, this is a picture of her. When she’s done growing in a few weeks, you’ll get to meet her.”

Rory couldn’t possibly look any less unimpressed by the picture. “Can you send her back? Call her and tell her she can stay where she is.”

“Ro, that’s not how it works, babe.”

“Why not? She’s not here yet. She can go still.” Rory suggests easily, as if it’s just that simple.

“Rory, that’s your baby sister. Aren’t you excited?” Harry tries to go back to the positive part of it that he may be able to relate to.

“No. No, I’m not!” Rory crosses his arms over his small chest and pulls his eyebrows together in a deep frown.

“You don’t want to be a big brother?” Louis questions, using a happy tone of voice.

“No!” Rory untangles himself from Louis’ arms and gets off the couch completely. “I wanna be your only baby! I want you to love _me_!”

“But we do love you, RoRo.”

“You won’t love me if she’s here! You’ll forget me!” And now the tears are coming, pooling under his big eyes as he grows more and more frustrated.

“No, Rory never—”

“Why do you need her! Am I not enough baby for you? Is it cuz I’m four now? Is that old?” Rory sniffles. “I don’t need any more birthdays. I promise! I’ll stay little!”

“We don’t want you to stay little, sweetheart.” Louis comforts. “We want you to grow. You’re not a baby anymore and that’s ok.”

“No, it’s not ok! I’m not ok!” Rory cries. “I don’t like this! I don’t want a new baby!”

“Honey, we are a family, right? And sometimes families get bigger and that just means there is more love to give. It’s a good thing.”

“No.” He mopes, arms crossed angrily over his chest again. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying, babes.” Harry answers softly. “I promise.”

“Lying isn’t nice, Daddy! Be nice!”

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

Rory huffs before answering. “Cuz I’ve heared things.”

“What things have you heard?”

“Well.” Rory starts with a sniffle, looking back up at his parents again. “My friend Miles telled me that when his daddy and mummy got a new baby, they forgot about him.”

“I told you we won’t forget you, RoRo.” Louis promises again.

“That’s what you tell me now! But not when she’s here! Miles said no one plays with him anymore. Everyone says, ‘you’re a big boy now’.”

“But you are a big boy, Rory. We’re so proud of you—”

“No! Daddy, I don’t wanna be a big boy!” Rory sobs as if it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard. “I’m a baby!”

“Ooh Rory.” Harry sighs gently. “You can’t be a baby forever.”

“Yes, I can.” Rory defiantly argues. “You are!”

“What?”

“Papa calls you baby all the time.”

“That’s not…that’s…” Harry pauses at a clear loss for the right words. “That’s not the same kind of baby.”

Rory frowns up at him. “Yes it is!”

“Rory, do I look like a baby to you.” Harry questions flatly in offense, while Louis tries impossibly hard to keep a straight face.

“Yes!” Rory answers without question.

Harry looks off into the distance, sitting back against the couch cushions. “Ok. Alright.”

“RoRo, I’ll always call you baby too. Even when you grow up. You’re still my baby.” Louis promises, holding Rory by his shoulders. “But don’t you want someone to play with? If you have a sibling, you’ll always have someone and never feel lonely.”

“No. I’ll play with myself forever.” 

Louis purses his lips together tightly to hold back another laugh at his son’s word choices. “She could be your best friend.”

“I am my best friend!” Rory claims defiantly.

“Well you could have another best friend.” Louis suggests positively.

“You can be my best friend.” Rory decides. “You and Daddy and me. That’s it.”

“Baby, just because it’s not going to be only the three of us anymore doesn’t mean it’s going to be a bad thing. It’s going to be different, but it’s not going to be bad.”

“Fine!” Rory exclaims suddenly. “If you want her so bad, she can live here, I guess. But I don’t gotta like it! I’m not!”

“You’ll love her, Rory.”

“No! Daddy no! I will not!” He shouts. “I’m never talking to her! Ever! She’s not real to me!” 

“Ro—”

“I need to go time out myself.” Rory decides suddenly. “I gotta think with me.”

“That’s a good idea. Take your time, sweetheart.”

Rory gets up and slowly walks towards the hall. He pauses once to look over his shoulder at his parents, staring them both down like he’s both disappointed and mad at them. Then he huffs once and continues on to his room.

“Well that went…” Louis pauses as he exhales out a long breath. “As well as expected.”

“Are we in danger?” Harry asks seriously, eyes slightly wide.

“What?” Louis laughs lightly, not sure if Harry is serious.

“I’m sorry, I misspoke. Am _I_ in danger?”

“You can’t be serious…”

“Did you not see the death glare he just gave us?” Harry widens his eyes. “Our kid is pissed as fuck, Lou.”

“H, we knew he was going to be upset. It’s ok, he’ll warm up to it. Just let him have his time to process it. It’s a big change for him.”

“Alright if you say so. I’m still going to sleep with one eye open.”

Louis laughs again, louder this time. “You idiot. He’s four! He’s harmless!”

“Ok, if you believe that. Can never be too safe….” Harry widens his eyes even more. “Remember what I told you…violence…may…ensue…”

“Stop this, Harry.” Louis cackles.

“You’re laughing but, like, Lou… _Lou_ …” Harry stresses seriously. “I’m deadass.”

🍼

“H…” Louis mumbles in his sleep, eyes still closed. He is awakened by an odd sound echoing from somewhere down the hall.

“Hmm.” Harry hums quietly, hardly stirring.

“Harry…” Louis blindly feels for him in the bed, locating his shoulder to give him a shake. “Babe, do you hear that?”

The noise grows louder and louder, but it hardly registers clearly in their sleep induced haze.

“…Huh?”

“Do…do you hear that…”

“Is…that? A baby…crying?”

“What...the…fuck…” Louis groans in exhaustion as he blears at the clock on the nightstand reading three a.m.

“Did we…? No—wait, no? Did—what day is it?” Harry murmurs, sounding practically delirious with sleep. “Did we…have our baby already? Or…? No.”

“No, we wouldn’t forget the birth of our child, H.”

“Right, right.” Harry nods slowly, scrubbing both hands over his face.

The cries sound just like a baby and yet the only thing in this house that is even relatively close to a newborn baby is…

“Rory.” Harry and Louis both say in realization.

The two of them scramble out of bed and make a mad dash to his room at the end of the hall, opening the door and switching on the light to find their son crying in his bed.

“Rory sweetheart, are you ok?” Harry asks first.

Louis is right behind Harry with more worried questions. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong, baby?”

“Hold me!” Rory cries, reaching his arms up for his parents.

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry coos once he is holding Rory, rocking him back and forth in his arms. “Why are you upset?”

Rory sobs on, curled to Harry’s chest as he clings to him.

Louis rubs his back worriedly, bushing away his curls from his face. “RoRo, we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong.”

“I’m a baby! And babies cry at nighttime!”

“You…? You _what_?” Harry blurts, staring down at his kid as though he’s some kind of alien lifeform.

“You mean there’s nothing wrong with you?” Louis asks as what his son just said starts to register in his tired brain.

As if on cue, Rory goes back to wailing his head off, actual tears running down his reddened cheeks. And it would be quite impressive if it wasn’t first of all, three a.m. and second, age inappropriate.

Harry and Louis exchange confused expressions blinking at each other a loss for what to do or say next.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Harry shakes his head in disbelief.

“Forrest.” Louis calls seriously, to which his son does not respond. “Do you know what time it is right now?”

“Time to cry!” Rory screams.

“No, no I’m not doing this. I’m not.” Harry shakes his head repeatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I _can’t_.”

“Rory, stop. Please stop, it’s too early for this.” Louis practically begs, feeling a headache coming on.

“Babies cry whenever they want.” Rory explains knowingly.

“But you aren’t a baby.” Louis reminds.

“Yes I am!”

And that is the very moment Harry seems to snap. “Forrest, Papa and I aren’t going to stay in here and play games with you. It’s three o’ clock in the morning. We have to go to work in a few hours so if you want to cry by yourself then fine, but we aren’t going to entertain you. Ok?”

With that, Harry doesn’t even wait for Rory to respond. He stands up, tucks Rory back into bed and then grabs Louis’ hand to pull him out of the room behind him.

Louis switches off the light as he follows after his husband blindly, letting Harry lead him back to their bedroom.

“I told you we were in danger.” Harry grumbles as they climb back into bed. “I know a death glare when I see one. He’s out for blood.”

Louis sighs as his head hits the pillow. “He just wants attention I think...”

“At fucking three in the morning?! Lou, you can’t tell me that was not premeditated. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Ok well here’s to hoping it was just a one-time thing and now he’s done.”

“You mean, here’s to blissful ignorance.” Harry grumbles flatly as he angrily pulls the duvet over his head. “Good night—or should I say good morning. See you in 2 hours.”

🍼

Louis leans against the kitchen counter, nursing the hot mug of tea he just made. He feels like shit, having once again only managed a few hours asleep thanks to the four-year-old newborn he’s attempting to parent. Rory has successfully woken him and Harry every night this week with his fake crying.

And the thing is, once they’re both completely awake, Rory stops. Just like that. He fucking _stops._ And then Harry and Louis are left staring up at their bedroom ceiling struggling to fall back to sleep. Louis is really starting to think that maybe Harry is right, maybe Rory is actually trying to make a point. Or maybe he’s trying to somehow dissuade them from having another baby. Not like that would work, she’s coming whether they are ready for her or not.

Louis swears he has dark circles the size of craters under his eyes that are not going anywhere anytime soon. But at least it’s Saturday and he and Harry have the day off to try and recoup, if their son will spare them a moment’s peace. He hears the telltale pitter-patter of little feet running through the halls upstairs, scrambling down the stairs and then flying towards the kitchen at speeds only his son could manage.

“Papa, Papa, Papaaa! Look! Look at me, Papa!”

“Stop running in the house, Rory. What is it—Aah!” Louis shrieks in total shock when he finally turns around, dropping his mug of tea to the kitchen floor. “Oh my god! HARRY!”

It only takes a second for Harry to come rushing into the kitchen shirtless with a toothbrush still hanging out of the side of his mouth. His eyes are wide and panicked as he tries to assess what’s going on from the sounds of bloody murder he heard. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Louis points a shaky hand at their son, paralyzed by the sight alone.

“I cutted my hair!” He’s got handfuls of his own curls in his hands and the patches it came from are all over his head. “See!”

“No…” Louis tightly clutches his chest, feeling like he’s only moments away from premature cardiac arrest. His legs are somehow still standing upright, but frozen to the spot. “No, no, _no…_ ”

“Babies don’t have long hair.” Rory smiles proudly. “So I cutted mine!”

“I feel faint…I feel sick…I need to lay down…” Louis presses on his temples as he slowly slides down the cabinetry to the floor.

“Rory, honey where did you get scissors from?” Harry crouches down to Rory’s eye level and runs his hand through what’s let of Rory’s curls causing more strands to fall out, also causing Louis to yelp again in absolutely horror as if being stabbed.

“I found them! In Papa’s office.”

“Forrest, you know you’re not supposed to be in Papa’s office when neither one of us is with you. We don’t play with scissors. You know that. You could have hurt yourself. This is very serious.” Harry reprimands sternly.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Rory hangs his head. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“Ok. We’ll talk about it more later. Go get dressed, we’ve got to go out to the shops to fix what you’ve done do your silly head.” Harry ruffles Rory’s mangled hair before Rory scrambles out of the kitchen.

Harry turns his attention to Louis next. “Are you ok, Lou?”

“…No…” Louis mumbles pitifully, head hung in both his hands.

Harry crawls across the kitchen floor around the heavy chunks of broken ceramic to his husband. “Oh my god, babe. Are you crying?”

Louis gradually lifts his head up. “Harry. Harry, it’s his _hair_. That was my hair. Those were my curls. God, I love his curls. They’re everything to me—everything! And now they’re just…they’re just… _gone...”_ He drops his heavy head down to Harry’s shoulder.

Harry wraps both of his arms around him. “They’ll grow back, Lou. It’s just hair.”

“The fuck it is!” Louis argues, sitting back up. “It’s not just hair. It’s my _baby’s_ hair!”

“Drama, drama, drama.” Harry shakes his head fondly, pressing his lips to Louis’ cheek several times in succession.

Louis ignores him, instead pulling out his phone to stare at pictures of Rory from times prior to ten minutes ago when he still had a full head of gorgeous golden curls. “Look at how cute he is.” He shoves the phone toward his husband’s face. “His hair reached his shoulders now…or I mean…it _did_...before....”

“Aww, it’s ok, Lou. You’re ok.” Harry drops a reassuring kiss down to Louis’ shoulder, hugging him closer. “Do you want to come with me to get him a proper haircut?”

“No, that’s like watching a murder unfold.” Louis grumbles, still swiping through his photo library mournfully. “Aww look H, you both have little curly ponytails in this picture. It’s so adorable…”

“I’d say Rory already committed the murder himself.”

Louis pauses, sighing emotionally at the picture. “A funeral then.”

“Are you gonna give a speech? Say a proper eulogy.” Harry teases, chin rested down against Louis. “Or maybe I could have the barber put what’s left of his curls in a little baggie for you as a souvenir.”

“It’s not fucking funny, Harry!” Louis swats at his husband’s naked side. “This is serious to me! I’m sad!”

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I know how much his hair meant to you.”

“How could he do this to me?”

“Well…he is four years old. Not much critical thinking going on in that little mischievous brain of his. Although, there actually might be because he’s been doing some pretty targeted shit lately. You can’t tell me this wasn’t thought out.”

Louis just huffs, in no mood to admit that Harry is right.

“It’ll grow back, I promise.” Harry consoles gently. “Remember when I cut my hair without telling you?”

“Don’t remind me of that betrayal. I’m fragile right now, can’t you see that?”

“Ok, but my point is that my hair grew back and so will Rory’s.”

Louis huffs again, not feeling much better.

“I looove yooou.” Harry sings softly into his ear, nibbling on Louis’ lobe a little. “I’ll bring you back a fresh tea from that shop you like, ok baby?”

Louis nods his head slowly.

Harry kisses Louis a few more times on his temple before standing up. “Lou, please don’t stay on the kitchen floor all day mourning over our son’s hair.”

“I’ll do what I want...” Louis mopes pathetically. “But darling, please make sure my baby doesn’t get a buzzcut. Please anything but a buzzcut, I’m begging.”

“Is that your last dying wish?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do my best to save every last strand for you, my love.” Harry teases a little. “You have my word.”

🍼

“Forrest, go right to your room like we talked about for a timeout.” Harry says firmly as he and Rory come through the front door.

“No! I hate timeouts!” Rory screams.

“I don’t care what you hate.” Harry answers through thinly veiled frustration. “You are going for a timeout and that’s final.”

“Fine!” Rory tantrums, stomping his feet as he storms off angrily.

Harry comes around to the kitchen with his hands full of grocery bags while also balancing a drink tray. He sets the bags down on the counter, before offering Louis a to-go cup. “Hey Lou, I hope your tea hasn’t gone cold.”

“Thank you, love.” Louis leans in to kiss Harry’s cheek in thanks. He takes the offered cup and offers Harry a different one in return.

“Um? Why are you handing me a sippy cup?” Harry frowns in confusion.

“It’s wine.” Louis nods empathetically. “Your face says that you need it more than I do.”

“Have you been sitting here day drinking since I left you?”

“Shh…just drink it.” Louis consoles, rubbing comforting circles to his husband’s shoulder. “And then you can tell me all about whatever the hell just happened to you.”

“Ugh god, you don’t even want to know.” Harry sighs heavily as he lifts the purple spill proof cup to his lips.

“You know I do. What happened? How’d the haircut go?”

“The haircut was the easy part. No issues there. Also, no buzzcut, it’s just cropped short with layers, it’s pretty cute. You’re welcome.”

“Mmm, I love you. Thank you.” Louis sets his tea down on the counter so that his hands are free to slide around Harry’s waist. “Now talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

Harry lets out another heavy sigh, throwing his head back in exhaustion. “So I decided to stop by the store for a few things for dinner, right? And Rory is walking next to me as I push the cart, no big deal. He asks for candy, he asks for ice cream, he asks for everything he sees, nothing unusual.”

“Right, right.” Louis nods along.

“Ok, so we’re finishing up and we turn the corner to head towards the front of the store and there’s this mum with a little baby in a carrier. The baby starts getting fussy and the mum is rummaging through her bag looking for a diaper or something. And Rory is just, like, watching this—absolutely fascinated.”

“Weird but…ok? Then what?”

“So then—”

“Wait.” Louis groans as he starts to realize where this might be going. “Let me guess. Rory starts screaming his head off.”

Harry lets out another full sigh before taking a swig of wine. “Yes. But it gets worse.”

“Full tantrum?”

“No, I would have preferred that.” Harry downs a good portion of the wine in the cup before continuing.

“So?”

“So, in a _shocking_ turn of events, Forrest starts crying about needing a diaper change.” Harry reveals bitterly, as if he still can’t quite believe it.

“Oh no...”

“Oh yes.” Harry nods with a very bitter, very annoyed smile. “And I’m not talking about a little fake cry—no, the kid was doing a full on production. I swear he’s a trained actor or something because it was just… _ridiculous_!” Harry exclaims. “So, there’s a crowd forming of course, because why the hell is a child that old acting like he just sprung from the womb. Nobody knows. So I try to explain to him calmly that he doesn’t wear diapers and if needs to go to the toilets I’ll take him he just needs to use his words like a big boy.

“God…”

“Well naturally, he didn’t like being called a big boy. At. Fucking All. And to prove that he is indeed a helpless baby, your son literally pissed himself in the middle of the goddamn store.”

 _“Fuck.”_ Louis gasps in horror. “Oh my god, H. Are you serious?”

“Yes! All over the floor and everything! I wanted to fucking _die_ , Louis! The actual infant was better behaved. You know that feeling when you just want to disappear? Just like that. I wanted to abandon the groceries and just come home but then he would know that he won. So I stayed strong and I made him stay wet until we were done at the store. But Louis, oh my god, I was so mortified. I gave out so many apologies to every staff member I saw. And then I paid like three times the cost of my groceries because I felt so bad.”

“Aww baby, I’m so sorry that sounds awful.” Louis pulls his husband in for a supportive hug, rubbing his back. “You handled it so well though. Really, you did.”

“It didn’t feel like it. It felt like I failed as a parent.” Harry pouts as he sucks wine out of his cup with his chin hooked over Louis’ shoulder. “Maybe I’m a shitty parent?”

“No never, Harry. Don’t even say that, you’re the best dad.” Louis encourages genuinely as he continues rubbing gentle circles to his spine. “You’re just having a bad day and you’ve hardly slept and our kid is going through a crisis.”

“He’s out of control, Louis. We don’t even have the new baby, but it feels like we do. Like between the crying all night and the hair thing and now this…” Harry groans. “God, he’s driving me nuts, Lou. _Nuts.”_

“I know.” Louis nods, scrubbing both his hands over his face. “While you were gone, I was doing some pretty in-depth reading to see if any other parent has ever dealt with this.”

“You went mommy blogging while drinking wine out of sippy cup?” Harry breaks his pout to smirk in amusement.

Louis rolls his eyes.

“See I told you those parenting blogs can be very interesting. And helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can I tell you what I learned now please?”

“Yes please educate me, Mr. Mom.”

“Alright so. Apparently, Rory is showing all the classic signs of regression. I figured you would already know what that is because you’re a nurse.”

“Oh my god…” Harry nods in recognition. “I totally should have realized that’s what he’s been doing. When families get new babies it’s super common for the older sibling to feel displaced and start wanting attention, so they act out—act younger. It usually happens after the baby is already here, but he’s doing it just at the idea of a new baby coming which is…weird?”

“When has Rory ever not been weird though?”

“You’re right.” Harry nods.

“So what do we do? Is it going to get worse when the baby comes?”

“I hope not. We’ve gotta find a way of dealing with this now.”

🍼

Later that afternoon, Louis offers to make dinner because Harry has already gone through enough for one day. But Harry insists, saying that he needs an outlet for his frustration and cooking calms him down, which Louis can attest that it usually does. However, Harry realizes that he forgot to buy one of the key ingredients, so he has to go back to the store anyway. Although he claims he’s not going back to that particular store for at least a year and he doesn’t care if he has to drive further for the same exact things. Louis can’t really blame him.

“Papa?” Rory peeks out slowly from the far hallway, scanning the area for any sign of Harry and seeming pleased to find the coast clear.

“Yes, Rory.” Louis looks up from the pile of laundry he’s been busy folding. After washing Rory’s wet clothes, he decided he might as well get a head start on the rest of the laundry.

“Can I not be in timeout now? Pretty, pretty pleeease?” Rory pokes his bottom lip out like the little manipulator that he is.

“Do you understand why you were in timeout?”

Rory nods his head up and down sweetly, rocking back and forth on his toes.

“And why is that?”

“Cuz I was bad.”

“Yes, but what did you learn?” Louis questions.

“Not to be bad.” Rory shrugs simply.

“Anything else?”

“Not to embarrass Daddy.”

“Rory, you can’t go around acting like that. It’s not ok.”

“I know, I know.” Rory quickly nods his head in succession. “Please Papa! Please, please, _please_! I don’t wanna be lonely anymore. I promise I learned!”

Louis considers him for a few moments before conceding slowly. “Ok. But you can come over here and help me fold clothes.”

Rory nods, happily accepting to help do chores if it means he doesn’t have to stay in his room anymore.

After only two minutes of folding, which in Rory time equates to half a folded shirt, Rory pipes up again. “Um…Papa?”

“Yeah babe?”

“I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry.” Louis nods. “Ok, we can definitely fix that. How about we go see about getting you a snack.”

“Yay!” Rory cheers excitedly, clapping his hands.

They make their way back to kitchen and Louis surveys the contents of the refrigerator for something quick and mildly healthy that also won’t completely spoil Rory’s appetite for dinner. He settles on cutting Rory an apple.

Rory waits until Louis has washed, sliced and placed the pieces in a bowl for him before he speaks up again. “I can’t eat that, Papa. Sorry no.”

Louis looks down at the bowl of freshly sliced apple, inspecting it for something that would deem it inedible. “And why not?”

“Cuz I need my bottle.”

Louis lets out the heaviest breath of the day as he sets the bowl down on the marble countertop, slowly lifting his head to face his little menace. He was clearly a fool to think that maybe they had moved past this. “What do you mean you need your bottle?”

“I don’t eat food! Only bottles!” Rory explains with a straight and serious face. All Louis can do is stare down at him and wonder if this is actually real life or the twilight zone.

“Ok no. Rory, we are not doing this.”

But apparently Rory thinks they are doing this because it only takes a few seconds for him to start crying. Harry was definitely right; Rory is a method actor. Where on earth he could have learned such deception is so far beyond Louis’ current understanding of his child.

“No, Rory enough ok. _Enough_.” Louis tries to talk over the growing cries. “You are four years old.”

However, Rory continues wailing at the top of his lungs, unwilling to listen to reason or anything for that matter.

“Forrest Tomlinson Styles!” Louis finally snaps. “Stop. Your Dad and I are not going to accept this behavior anymore.”

“Are you mad at me, Papa?” Rory worries, eyes growing wide.

“I’m very disappointed in how you’ve been acting.” Louis answers seriously with a stern look.

That seems to make Rory genuinely upset, something about Louis being mad at him is somehow deeply bothersome to him. Louis doesn’t snap at him often, but with all that Rory has been doing and how little sleep Louis is functioning on, truly enough is enough.

Rory runs over to Louis and hugs his small arms around Louis’ legs tightly. “No Papa! Don’t be mad! I’m sorry!”

“Well Rory if you were really sorry then you would stop. But if you really want to act like a baby then we can start treating you like one.”

Rory just looks up at him with his worried wide eyes. And Louis thinks he has him right where he wants him.

“Alright.” Louis claps suddenly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Rory knits his eyebrows together. “What…”

“Yeah, it’s your bedtime.” Louis explains obviously. “Babies need to their sleep.”

“But…but…” Rory shakes his head slowly. “I wanna watch a movie.”

“Well babies like you don’t watch movies. They sleep all day. So it’s time for you to go to bed, little baby.”

“No! I need my snack!”

Louis pauses frowning as though he’s confused. “Oh, but babies don’t have snack time either. So...that’s over.”

“No!”

“Yeah.” Louis nods, shrugging. “So, let’s go to bed.”

“No, I’m not tired!” Rory argues.

“That’s ok, I’ll just carry you.” Louis bends down and picks Rory up, cradling him like a baby. “Come on up you go.”

Rory squirms around in Louis’ hold, trying so hard to break free. “Noooo! Papa! It’s not fair!”

“Shh it’s ok, baby.” Louis pats his back gingerly.

“No! Noooo!” Rory starts kicking his legs and throwing his arms around. He’s surprisingly slippery for a human child, Louis has to admit.

Louis carries Rory in his arms towards the stairs, passing by the front door just as Harry walks in, just getting home from the store.

“Daddy! Daddy save me!” Rory pleads, reaching towards his dad. “Papa thinks I’m really a baby!”

“Aren’t you?” Harry answers casually. “That’s what you told me.”

“No! I’m…I’m…” Rory stammers not exactly wanting to admit anything, but also not wanting to be put to bed. There’s a clear conflict going on in his little head.

“Hmm.” Harry shrugs. “So Lou, are you putting our baby to bed?”

“Yep!” Louis grins. “And I think he could use a good swaddle. Would you like to help me get him down?”

“Oh, of course. I would _love_ to.” Harry agrees easily.

Noooooooo!” Rory screams all the way up the stairs, getting more and more frustrated.

“It’s ok, baby. You’ll feel better once we get you to sleep.” Louis promises sweetly.

“No! I don’t wanna sleep! I—wait? This isn’t my room.” Rory looks around in horror as they arrive in the nursery. Harry and Louis just finished getting it all ready for the arrival of their daughter but it seems Rory will get to test out the new crib first.

“Well, you don’t need your room because you’re a baby, remember?” Harry explains. “The crib is much better for you.”

Harry grabs a soft yellow blanket and lays it down in the crib before Louis places Rory on top of it. With skilled teamwork, Louis holds Rory’s arms and legs while Harry gets the blanket tucked around him in a tight swaddle. When they’re done with him, the only part of his body not covered is his furious face and he looks just like a cute oversized burrito.

Harry adds the final touch of popping a pacifier in Rory’s mouth. “Aww, my cute little baaaby.” He coos sweetly, making faces at Rory like he would an infant.

Rory spits it out in anger, glowering up at his parents. “No! I don’t like it!”

“What?” Louis wonders. “But this is what you wanted.”

“No!” Rory wiggles his body around, trying to spring free from the tight swaddling but having trouble. “I don’t wanna play anymore!”

“Play what?”

 _“Baby_! I don’t wanna play! I’m not a baby! I’m me! I’m Rory! I’m a big boy!” Rory finally admits, as he continues to struggle around in the crib.

“Ooh really?” Louis questions in surprise, leaning against the crib. “You’re a big boy now?”

“Yes! I am! I’m big! I promise I’m big!”

“Well how can we know for sure?” Harry asks. “You still sound like a baby to me.”

“Cuz…cuz…I’m sorry...” Rory murmurs sincerely, looking like he might start crying from being so upset. “I’m sorry I maked you mad at me and…and…I’m sorry for not listening and being good. I know it was not very nice.” His lip quivers as tears well up under his big green eyes. “I…I don’t want you mad at me anymore.”

“Come here, sweet boy.” Louis picks him up out of the crib, swaddling and all. He walks him over to the loveseat positioned on the far wall of the nursery and sits down along with Harry.

“That was a very big boy apology, Rory.” Harry tells him as he helps free Rory’s arms from the swaddling of the blanket.

“That’s cuz I’m really sorry now.”

“You weren’t sorry before?”

“No, not really.” Rory admits honestly. “I…um…I just thinked that if I’m your baby then maybe you don’t need another one to replace me.”

“Oh darling.” Louis cups his soft face, thumbing away his residual tears. “I told you we could never replace you. Never ever. We love you exactly how you are. Always.”

“Things might be different when the baby comes but we promise we will never forget about you, Ro.” Harry assures, kissing the side of his head. “You are just as important to us.”

Rory stays quiet for a moment as he thinks, worrying his lip through his teeth. “Daddy, will you still make me waffles on weekends?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“And what about my tea parties? Will you still come?”

Harry nods. “Yes.”

“And will you still let me get in your bed when it’s scary in my room?”

“Always.” Louis answers.

“What if I just feel sad?” Rory worries.

“Yes, you can come when your sad or scared or whenever you need to.”

“Papa, will you still hold me and sing to me and pet my hair to help me fall asleep?”

“Yeah baby. I will.”

“Every night?”

“Mhmm.” Louis nods.

“Ok.” Rory nods as well, seeming both satisfied and reassured for the moment. “But Papa?”

“Yes, Ro?”

“I miss my hair.” Rory pouts sadly.

“Me too.” Louis kisses the top of his head, hugging him closer. “But you’re still our beautiful boy.”

“I can’t put it in a pony no more.” He frowns, sighing.

“And that’s why we don’t cut our own hair.” Harry reminds. “It’ll grow back though.”

“When?” Rory wonders.

“Soon.”

“But when?”

“Soon.” Harry repeats.

“How soon?” Rory pesters.

Louis grins at Harry, completely amused.

“Soon Rory. Soon.” Harry says again, exasperated. “I can’t tell you exactly when because I don’t know.”

“Fine.” Rory exhales slowly as he keeps his eyes trained on Harry. “But if it doesn’t grow, it’s your fault.”

“Oh no, no.” Harry denies. “It’s your fault, Rory. You cut your hair, not me.”

“Yeah, but you telled me it would grow.” Rory accuses.

“That doesn’t make this my fault.”

“Yeah huh.” Rory argues

“No.”

“Yep.”

“No.”

Rory nods his head just blinking at Harry with narrowed eyes. The look grows more serious and pointed the longer it goes on and it starts to give Harry chills.

“Do you see how he’s looking at me?” Harry whispers to Louis.

“It’s all in your head, H.”

🍼

Harry is sitting on the loveseat in the nursery, cradling his beautiful 36-hour old daughter in his arms. She’s sleeping contently, not at all fussy as Harry slowly rocks her in his arms.

Rory had spent the night before with his Aunt Lottie while Harry and Louis had rushed to the hospital in preparation of their daughter’s arrival. Everything went smoothly, without complication and they were able to bring their healthy baby home just two hours ago. And it wasn’t long after that before all of their family showed up at their doorstep to meet and gush over the newest member of the Tomlinson Styles clan. But before Louis and Harry introduce her to all of their family members, they decided to take a special moment to let Rory meet her first.

Louis left Harry’s side in the nursery to go downstairs and inform their family of their plans as well as retrieve their nervous son who he found suction cupped to his grandmother.

Rory has been a wreck all week. Not the kind of wreck that he was weeks ago when he was hungry for attention and ready to do just about anything to get it. But more so a quiet, more reserved clingy, where he always wants someone to cuddle him and hold his hand and give him reassuring kisses at every chance.

Harry and Louis would definitely take a cuddle bug version of Rory over that demon baby version of him any day. They know that it’s a lot for him and that no matter how much reassuring they do, he’s still going to be apprehensive and nervous about the whole thing.

And that is exactly why they know it’s necessary to give him a moment to meet her on his own before everyone around him starts fussing over her.

Louis opens the door to the nursery, holding Rory’s hand as he leads him inside the room. Rory stays as close to Louis as humanly possible, right on heels after every step.

“Hi Rory.” Harry greets gently in a hushed voice as not to wake the sleeping baby in his arms. “Would you like to meet your little sister?”

Rory just blinks uncertainly, for once he is rendered speechless which is absolutely uncharacteristic for him. He lifts his head up to look at Louis for an answer.

“It’s ok, sweetheart.” Louis encourages, walking Rory over to the small couch and pulling him into his lap. Rory stays perfectly contained in Louis’ lap hardly moving as he glances at the infant in Harry’s arms. “Do you want to say hi?”

Rory pauses again, looking up at Harry this time as though he doesn’t know how to approach anything anymore.

“Go on, Ro. It’s alright, you can talk to her or touch her.” Harry reassures. “We just have to be very gentle with her, ok honey?”

Rory nods before leaning in closer, letting one of his hands linger by the baby’s small fist. “Hi. I’m Rory. Your brother. Big brother…I didn’t really want you but—” She reflexively grasps her tiny hand around Rory’s finger, and he gasps in surprise. “Oh!”

“Aww look at that Rory, she likes you.” Louis smiles warmly.

“She’s so tiny...” Rory awes softly in fascination. “Was…was I that tiny, Papa?”

“Mhmm.” Louis hums, rubbing his son’s back. “You were itty bitty when Daddy and I first brought you home.”

Rory stares quietly, seeming mesmerized by the little baby looking up at him. “When will she play with me?”

“Probably not for a bit, Ro.” Harry answers. “She’s new around here, you know? But you can help her by helping Papa and I take care of her.”

“Ok, I can do that.” Rory agrees eagerly. “I wanna be a good brother.”

“You will be, honey.” Harry promises.

Rory is quiet again, content to just let his sister grip his finger. “I love her, I think...” He decides slowly as he gazes at her.

Harry and Louis look up at each other and softly smile, heart-warmed by the beautiful sight of their kids bonding. Although they knew it would happen eventually, it’s a much different realization to actual see it beginning to happen.

Harry looks like he might start crying at any moment, and Louis knows he doesn’t look much different. “You do?”

Rory nods his head, not taking his eyes off of her for a single second. “She's my baby.”


End file.
